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When the Twilight movies turned 13-year-old girls into the sort of franchise-obsessed herds typically reserved for teenage superhero fanboys, it sparked a vampire trend that is just now, years later, beginning to fade. We saw a hit franchise (Twilight), other vampire films (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, Vampire Academy), as well as hit TV shows (True Blood, The Vampire Diaries). It also spurred a hunt for the next big young adult series, with Lionsgate eclipsing Twilight with The Hunger Games. Although maligned by most critics and filmgoers over the age of 15, Twilight spurred a trend. If someone was sitting on a vampire spec, it was a great time to get it out there.

But what if you didn’t have a vampire spec? What if you weren’t that sort of writer? What if you writing about Vampires would be like Eminem recording a country album? Should you still do it? Should you follow the trend? Do you chase a zeitgeist?

The short answer is “no.” The long answer is “probably not.”

The popular thinking is that trends ebb and flow, so why spend time trying to surf it? By the time you write that great vampire spec, the vampire money grab may well be over. Now you’re stuck with a script that’s no longer “in” and not even something you liked to begin with. Plus writing a script solely to follow the business trend is inherently lacking in passion. In the battle between art and commerce, this would be commerce storming the beaches of art’s Normandy. And we’re writers damn it, we’re artistic, we’re in it for the stories, not for corporate satisfaction.

I have a difficult time finding fault in this logic. We are in it for the stories. We are in it for the art. But I’d like to play devil’s advocate here, because this is Hollywood so even the devil has an agent.

So here's the inside scoop: There's a secret checklist. It's ten points, and we go through your script and see if it has the ten elements. Elements such as "A character named Jake" and "The word 'gregarious' on page 63." If you have all ten, you make it to the next round!

I wish. I totally wish.

How easy it would be if it was mathematical. How simple it would be if this was not subjective at all. I could go through ten scripts in an hour and then spend the rest of the day laid out on Venice Beach sipping a Pina Colada. But it is very subjective. And that's what's great about it and why I do it. I love movies, I love screenplays, and I love subjectivity.

So "What do you look for in a winning script?" might not be the right way to phrase the question. "What qualities do winning scripts tend to have?" might be better. And although there aren't specific elements that I require every script to have, there are a few things I -- and most readers -- tend to gravitate towards:

We’ve seen them all before but perhaps never recognized their importance. From the mysterious glowing suitcase in “Pulp Fiction” to the titular ancient idol in “The Maltese Falcon”, the nuclear warheads in “True Lies”, or DaVinci’s secret code; it’s that thing, or even person (“Get Shorty”), that everyone is chasing after, that everyone wants. Such familiar elements are the V8 engine that drive some of your favorite classics, motivating some of cinema’s most memorable and notable protagonists into action. These objects, while they might be diverse in origin and form, all exist for the same basic principle: They are convenient devices meant to spur your story’s hero into action.

To put it simply, they are MacGuffins. The term “MacGuffin” was popularized by Alfred Hitchcock; as a matter of fact, they were a mainstay in the thriller genre that he is routinely celebrated as being a master of. “MacGuffins” are objects that typically have no other greater narrative importance other than being a motivator for the protagonist. From R2-D2 in “Star Wars: A New Hope” to the Rabbit’s Foot in “Mission Impossible III,” MacGuffins have long been a mainstay in the repertoire of generations of screenwriters and storytellers. Here are four reasons why a MacGuffin could be the answer to your next screenplay.

“One must never place a loaded gun on the stage if it isn't going to go off. It's wrong to make promises you don't mean to keep.”

Such are the fateful words of Anton Chekhov, a Russian playwright who outlined one of the most important dramatic principles in narrative storytelling. Even though Chekhov wrote this edict over a century ago, it remains crucially relevant to writers today. What’s so important about the principle of “Chekhov’s Gun” is that it establishes one of the great rules of storytelling: “Don’t make promises you don’t mean to keep.”

I know what you’re thinking: Rules, rules, rules. More parameters and more restrictions on how I tell my story. When will it end? On the contrary: One of the great things about the Chekhov’s Gun principle is that it can help you become a better writer. By keeping Chekhov’s Gun in mind the next time you sit down to write your screenplay, you’ll be able to create stories that feel tighter, more intentional and even more exciting.

It Helps You Get Rid of Excess

What is Chekhov getting at when he says, “its wrong to make promises you don’t mean to keep?” Simple: Every plot point and character you populate your script with is a “promise.” Its a signal to your audience that this is important, whether it be a subplot or supporting role. Its a notation for your audience to keep their eye on this element, the purpose or significance of which will be revealed later.

The reverse of that is also true. If you introduce subplots that you don’t follow up on, your audience will feel cheated. They’ll wonder why you bothered to set-up a conflict or a scene that ended up going nowhere. As a result, Chekhov’s Gun is a principle that helps you cull the excess of your script. It’s a rule of thumb that will push you to only keep the essentials and jettison the rest.

Fresh Voices was founded in 2009 with the intention of discovering, nurturing and empowering screenwriters of all levels. I have spent over 20 years in the industry as an agent, manager and producer before Fresh Voices, and so it was important to me that Fresh Voices be a platform to give the microphone to talented screenwriters that have a story to tell and a voice that deserves to be heard.

Have a purpose in what you write and why you write. Be a student of life, of people and of the human condition. Those who do are able to connect with their audience in a way that most other writers cannot.

What’s the best thing writers can do if they place in, but don’t win the contest?

Keep on writing, keep on submitting and keep on getting notes. And write something else. Don’t keep on rewriting the same script. Write something else. Explore your wheelhouse and try your style at different genres.

If Act One introduces us to your story and characters, and Act 2 is where you set and raise the tension and dramatic stakes, then Act 3 is where the narrative must seamlessly come together to end your story with closure for your characters and your audience. Every subplot, every character, every painstakingly crafted relationship and theme that you’ve pieced together; it all culminates in your third act: the grand finale. In most occasions, the third act is the shortest part of your script, but it is also the most consequential. You’ve heard the stories: Movies which have had their ending rewritten, re-shot and debated by executives and fan boys alike. Different endings tested by studios on various audiences to identify the one with the most emotional resonance and the most satisfying narrative conclusion.

The reason why endings are so important is that its what you leave your audience with; its their final impression of your script, the summation of their experience with your storytelling. It influences how people will feel as they walk out of the brightening movie theater; how they’ll talk to their friends, family and peers when they describe your work. As you can tell, sticking the landing properly is paramount, but it can also be extremely tricky. To do so, you’ll need to create a third act that feels exciting, memorable and high-stakes all at once. Here are three important tips to ensure your final act ends your film with a lasting impression.

If act one introduces audiences to your story, act two is the chance to tighten your grip on them: Raise the stakes, show your protagonist what defeat looks like and throw in a monkey wrench or two. For many writers, the second act is the tipping point – it’s the longest stretch of your story, and in many cases, the most complicated. It can be easy to lose yourself, and your readers, in the wilderness of middle-act intrigue as the plot literally thickens.

Luckily enough, there are a few simple guidelines that can help you navigate the thornier aspects of Act Two. By ensuring that your script touches upon the items outlined in this checklist, you can find ways to keep your story moving, your characters fighting, and your audience enthralled.

With a handful of variations, the three-act story structure is a tried and tested formula relied upon and employed by story-tellers since the times of Aristotle to tell a clear and focused story. It is the most widely used and recognized narrative device to arrange plot points and emotional beats in a way that best tells a story with the greatest emotional impact on its audience. At its core it’s as easy as Beginning – Middle – and End, others refer to it as Set-Up – Confrontation – Resolution. However, as simple it sounds, there is more to crafting a well-executed three-act screenplay that will get you noticed in Hollywood.

Act one is all about perception. It’s your golden opportunity to lure the reader in and plant them in the world of your screenplay; to enmesh them in the characters, settings and story you’ve painstakingly woven. It’s also your opportunity to lose your audience if you don’t know what you’re doing: a rickety first act is all it takes for a producer to put your script in a discard pile and pass on it completely. As a result, the stakes are high and the message is clear: First impressions are essential.

Crafting a riveting first act takes skill and a firm grasp on the contours of your story. You need to be able to understand how to hook a readers’ attention and keep it, while continuing to introduce plot points, conflict and characters. These three questions are vital to ask yourself to ensure your first act is firing on all cylinders and hitting the required narrative beats experienced industry readers and are trained to look for in the first 30 pages.

Nick Watson, winner of the 2014-2015 Fresh Voices half-hour TV pilot competition, has signed with the leading literary agency, Abrams Artists Agency, and now writes for comedy and animation shows such as 'Littlest Pet Shop: A World of Our Own' for Hasbro Studios, and most recently the Conan O'Brien-produced animated series 'Final Space' for TBS.

Nick’s success is no surprise to us here at Fresh Voices having first identified his potential in 2014. His hilarious ½ Hr pilot, Mr. Doom, about a supper villain struggling to balance his obligations to his family and the Super Villain’s Union, stole the show in 2014 screenplay competition, sweeping all 4 rounds of the judging in the ½ Hour Pilot category.